


The blood that drips from heaven

by Kaesteranya



Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-04
Updated: 2011-02-04
Packaged: 2017-10-15 09:25:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/159395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaesteranya/pseuds/Kaesteranya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reks was a boy who had died on his watch, fighting his war: it was a truth that he could not run away from.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The blood that drips from heaven

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from the 31 Days theme for February 20, 2006.

If Vaan had asked whether Basch had known his brother, Basch was certain of his inability to answer him: in its more glorious days prior to the King’s assassination and Basch’s own incarceration, the Landian had been far too busy dealing with the responsibilities of a leader of the Resistance to bother himself with remembering the name and face of every soldier. Reks had been among the young ones, those whose values and swords remained untried until that last fatal moment from which not many of them managed to walk away from. When he tried, Basch could recall vague glimpses of a silver-haired boy struggling through sword drills, or running to deliver water and medical supplies to the veterans. He might have even had a word with the boy, although he could not be certain.

 

Their first and last time fighting together was what remained most vivid in his mind — Basch remembered the tension and the camaraderie of those moments, when all of them had foolishly believed that they were going to save the kingdom. He remembered thinking that the men who ran with him were not soldiers, but children with blades that they barely knew how to wield in their defense. He remembered railing against his captors, struggling, watching the distant back of his twin brother and the light go out of Reks’ eyes.

 

During their travels, whenever Vaan would swing his blades a particular way or display some wisdom and restraint beyond his years, it would occur to Basch to speak. _You look like your brother,_ he could have said, or _you do your brother honor_. Still, he did not feel it was his right. Reks was a boy who had died on his watch, fighting his war: it was a truth that he could not run away from.


End file.
